


Is It Cool If I Hold Your Hand?

by noorakardemmomesaetre



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, F/M, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Jughead Jones POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 04:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12623344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noorakardemmomesaetre/pseuds/noorakardemmomesaetre
Summary: Jughead Jones finally musters up the courage to take Betty Cooper on their very first date.





	Is It Cool If I Hold Your Hand?

**Author's Note:**

> In the car I just can't wait  
> To pick you up on our very first date  
> Is it cool if I hold your hand?  
> Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?  
> Do you like my stupid hair?  
> Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear?
> 
> -Blink 182

“You want to go on a date…” her eyebrows furrow before she continues, “with _me?”_  

Jughead bites his lip and adjusts his crown beanie, the feeling of rejection that he had been consciously avoiding for the past three years coursing through his veins.

He knew he shouldn’t have asked her. She had been his best friend since they were little, for Christ’s sake. Betty Cooper? On a date with _Jughead Jones?_ Only in his dreams. Actually, let’s be real, probably not even there.

“It wouldn’t be like a _date_ date,” he quickly attempts a recovery, trying to dig himself out of the hole he’s already standing in, “more like a fun dinner…but with just us.”

Her eyebrow arches in that cute subtle way that’s made his heart flutter since they were 14 and he sighs, wishing he could bury himself in this damn figurative hole he’s dug. 

“Jughead,” she says softly, reaching out to affectionately touch his arm, “I’d love to.”

He blinks, not being able to stop the smile spreading across his face as the reality of her acceptance hits him.

Jughead Jones is taking Betty Cooper on a date.

* * *

 “Don’t you think it's a bit much?”

Jughead is standing in front of his mirror, tugging at the black tie that is currently strangling him. 

FP laughs and bats his son’s hand away, “this is Betty Cooper, Jug! I want you to look good and feel confident.”

Shaking his head at his father, he reaches for his crown beanie and yanks it on over his messy curls, much to the disapproval of FP. But they had made a deal: Jughead could wear the beanie if he _also_ wore the tie. 

“Well, son,” FP says as Jughead grabs his wallet and heads to the door of their trailer, “be safe. Be a gentleman. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” 

Jughead rolls his eyes at his father, tossing him a sheepish grin before he heads out to his motorcycle.

Saying that he was nervous driving up to Betty’s house would be a complete understatement. 

This was three years in the making. He had held his tongue for _three years,_ watching the girl he loved pine after his best friend and date another guy, all while he happily fulfilled the best friend role.

But tonight, she is with _him._ Jughead Jones.

He pulls up to her house and is greeted by a disapproving and disgruntled Alice Cooper. She frowns at him as he takes off his helmet, adjusting his crown beanie, before heading up the steps.

 “Mrs. Cooper,” he smiles, offering his hand, which Alice takes delicately and Jughead imagines her dousing it in hand sanitizer the second she lets go.

“Jughead!” Betty calls, beaming as she quickly climbs down the stairs, walking past Alice and straight into Jughead’s arms for a hug. He bites his lip to keep from smiling too obviously as he wraps his arms around her tightly, noticing how soft and nice she smelled.

“Have her back here by 10:00PM _sharp,_ Mr. Jones,” Alice snaps, turning on her heel to head back into the house, her nose in the air. 

Betty scoffs at her mother’s retreating back and steps out of their hug, allowing for Jughead to take in how beautiful she looks in her pastel dress and nude heels. Half of her hair is tied up, but it’s loose and the curls brush delicately against her bare shoulder. 

“Um…Jug?” Betty says softly, her gaze fixated on his bike while his remains fixated on her.

“You look amazing, Betts,” he replies, offering an appreciative smile. 

She giggles and then shakes her head, concern laced through her voice as she motions to her outfit, “I can’t ride that in _this.”_  

He raises an eyebrow and looks from her short dress to his bike, then back to her dress, “I’m not really seeing a problem here.”

 “Juggie!” she laughs, smacking his arm playfully, “I’m being serious!”

He grins at her, not being able to help the way she makes him feel, so different from his normal brooding range of emotions, almost light and happy, “I’m only teasing you! I’ve ordered a cab.” 

As if on cue, a yellow cab slows in front of Betty’s house and Jughead slips his hand nonchalantly into hers, leading her towards their ride. Her hand feels small and warm in his and he wishes he could photograph this moment. 

“Where are you taking me?” she asks, but he shakes his head, promising not to tell her until they arrive.

The drive takes about 45 minutes and Betty fills the air with chatter about the Blue and Gold and cheer practice. She seems content sitting next to him, her bare thigh pressed against his new black pants.

And, yes, he may have worked an extra couple of shifts at the movie theatre to afford this date.

The cab slows in front of a nice restaurant and Betty’s eyes widen as they step out, taking in the beautiful architecture and greenery that lines the walls. Jughead takes her hand and proudly walks up to the hostess standing behind a restaurant podium outside of the front doors.

“Two for Jones,” he says smoothly, trying to hide his smile when Betty looks at him, surprised.

“Ah, yes, Jones. A rooftop reservation, right this way,” the hostess says, leading the new couple up two flights of stairs on the side of the building leading to the rooftop.

It’s romantic on the roof, set up beautifully with only a few small round tables, the only lighting coming from the brightness of the moon and little white lights strung above the tables. A man playing a violin softly stands to the side as the few diners chat amongst themselves. 

“Just this way,” the hostess says, leading them to a table near the edge of the roof, a perfect view of the city, busy and lit up below.

“Wow,” Betty breathes as Jughead pulls out her seat for her before sliding into his own.

“Jughead, this is too nice,” she says quickly, as their waiter pours them each a glass of water.

“I’m allowed one cheesy line tonight, so I’m using it now,” he teases, reaching out to nervously place his hand on hers, “nothing is too nice for you, Betty Cooper.” 

She giggles, shaking her head, and looking out at the city, a peaceful silence falling over them as they receive their menus.

Jughead orders enough food for three while Betty sticks with a green salad before she immediately continues with their conversation from the car.

“It just seems like Cheryl wants to be captain forever, but Veronica deserves it, she has worked so hard,” Betty’s saying, but Jughead is only half listening.

He can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she looks in the glow of the natural lighting, how lucky he is to be there sipping fancy bottled water from a glass, listening to her talk about her life.

He’s brimming with deep affection for her and for once in his life, he isn’t having to hide it. 

“Betty,” he interrupts apologetically, reaching down to tug his camera out of the satchel he never goes anywhere without, “you look ethereal and I really want to take your picture. Is that okay?”

Betty blushes at the compliment, reaching up to self-consciously fix her curls, before nodding, “okay.” 

He smiles unabashedly, teeth and all, lifting the camera to his eye and snapping the photo of her, the city lights sparkling in the distance, her curls framing her face, making her truly look like an angel.

“One of us together now, Jug!” she says, motioning for him to come next to her and pulling out her phone for the selfie. Jughead winces, he hates photos of himself, but he can’t deny that pout and knows he would do anything to make her happy. Especially tonight.

He crouches next to her, smiling at the camera and admiring how much better they look together than he had even thought. She snaps the picture quickly and giggles, turning so that their faces are only a few inches apart. Her eyes flicker to his lips and he feels his heart pounding, his breath shortening as she leans in.

But his nerves get the better of him and he simply smiles, and heads back to his seat.

She laughs, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear as she looks at him, “we look cute together?" 

It’s a question that takes no pause for Jughead, “definitely.”

They spend the next few hours talking and eating and Jughead can’t imagine a better first date.

He can’t believe how easy it is with her, how their conversation never falters, his jokes never fail, and the few moments where their hands have touched have felt electric. 

They stand as their meal come to a close, a sinking feeling rising in Jughead’s chest as he realizes the night is almost over. He reaches out a hand, which she takes immediately and, much to his surprise, intertwines her fingers in his.   

As they head down the stairs, Betty pulls on his hand abruptly. 

“Ouch!” she says, giggling lightly as she raises her hand to a pull a small branch from a vine that has gotten caught in her curls. The branch is unrelenting though and Jughead turns quickly to assist, closing the space between them as he delicately pulls at the hairs wrapped in the vine.

“Ah,” Betty laughs softly once she feels the vine fall away from her, “not all heroes wear capes, huh?” 

He rolls his eyes at her, smirking as he says, “was that you using your one cheesy line tonight, Betts?” 

She looks down, a smile tugging on her lips and he realizes how close they are, her back almost pressed against the stone stairwell. She doesn’t move and neither does he as she looks up and meets his eyes, his heart beginning to pound at the lack of distance between them.

He can’t take it anymore.

He leans forward, pressing his lips to hers softly, before quickly pulling away. He feels uncertain and lightheaded as he forces himself not to wrap his arms around her. 

But her arms wrap around his neck, her lips pressed against his more urgently, and he steps forward pushing her back against the wall. Her lips part as she sighs against his mouth and, he can’t believe this is happening, but his tongue dips into her mouth, meeting hers immediately.

His hands rest against her waist, holding her both against the wall and flush against his body. Her fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck that have escaped his beanie as she pulls him closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue swipes against her bottom lip before slipping back into her mouth causing a soft moan to escape her. He pulls away, his breathing heavy as he looks at her looking at him, a look filled with nothing but happiness and excitement. 

“I love you, Jughead Jones.”

It comes out in a breath and he blinks, not believing what she has just said, a phrase that feels foreign to him.   

“Jughead…?”

He smiles at her, his eyes glistening, his heart full. He can’t believe she feels this way and he works to muster up the courage to tell her how much he loves her, how he has wanted this and her for so long.

“JUGHEAD!”  

Jughead’s eyes snap open, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he looks about the room, landing on a concerned looking Betty Cooper.

“Good morning!” she smiles brightly, chuckling at his confused nature, “school starts in twenty and Archie and I are not going to wait forever, Juggie.”

Jughead rubs his eyes, groaning. _What the hell?_  

“I’m making pancakes,” she coos, attempting to entice him with food as she tugs playfully on his blanket from his makeshift bed on Archie’s floor. He gives her a small smile, enough of a response to satisfy her and she turns to leave the room.  

He groans, turning over to smush his face into the pillow, cursing his damn vivid imagination and the dreams it creates.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment if you'd like, I really love and appreciate hearing your thoughts!   
> I hope you enjoy this little one shot! ❤


End file.
